


Princess Of Pain, Knight Of Freedom

by VioletRust



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Kinda a similar universe to Merlin actually, Maid! Reyna, Medieval AU, Piper is bi, Piper's POV, Princess! piper, This does take inspiration from other works but there's probably too many to list so idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 20:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16145174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletRust/pseuds/VioletRust
Summary: Piper McLean is a princess. Jason Grace is a prince. They're supposed to marry and secure an alliance of their parents' kingdoms. That's how it works, it must be true love. But Piper's true feelings don't lie with Jason; they lie with her maid, Reyna.





	Princess Of Pain, Knight Of Freedom

            “Ma’am?”

            I groan and open my eyes a crack. Sunlight pours in from the window opposite my bed, but I’m tired and it’s too bright so I close my eyes again. Just five more minutes, please . . .

            “Ma’am, please, I have breakfast, and your parents have requested your presence by at least eleven.”

            I sigh and force myself to turn over and face my maid. Reyna is standing there, perfect posture, neat hair, immaculate uniform, holding a large tray filled with food. How she can look this good in the morning, I don’t even know.

            “How many times have I told you just to call me Piper?” I grumble, sitting up and letting Reyna put the tray on my knee.

            “Almost too many times to count, _ma’am_ ,” Reyna says with a hint of a smile, handing me a napkin.

            “I don’t know why you insist on using all this fancy formal stuff. I mean, _really_ , the only person that cares is my mother.”

            “And your sister,” she adds, smirking.

            “Ugh. Don’t remind me of that piece of-” I stop myself.

            She doesn’t say anything but nods, her sarcastic smile revealing her dimples. I would say that they were cute, but this is _Reyna_ and if anything is cute within a fifty mile radius of her it is annihilated. No exceptions. So I can only describe her dimples as hot. WAIT- NO. I AM NOT THINKING OF HER AS HOT. NOT AGAIN. ABSOLUTELY NOT AGAIN.

            “Um, you’re dismissed!” I blurt, moving my napkin to my face to hide my blush.

            “Ma’am, are you alright?”

            “Yes. I just need to um . . . get changed.”

            “But you’ve barely started your breakfast-”

            “Not hungry. You’re dismissed,” I repeat. _What am I even doing?_

            “Ok?” She leaves the room with a confused expression on her face, and I’m left to calm my racing heart.

            Breathe, Piper, breathe.

            For a long time I had romantic feelings for Reyna. I realised it when I was thirteen, and never had I been more scared. This wasn’t supposed to happen, right? I was supposed to like boys, boys alone. Not girls. Liking girls wasn’t a thing I could do, right? That’s impossible, right? It’s girls and boys, men and women, that’s what everyone else is, that’s how it’s always been, that’s how it’s always . . .

            I’d thought back a few years. When I was younger, about seven, I was close friends with a princess from a neighbouring kingdom named Annabeth. She’d visited the castle when our fathers were discussing something about peace treaties, and we instantly hit it off and exchanged letters for months afterwards. I remembered the elation I felt every time I saw her handwriting. I remembered the glint of her blonde hair in the sunlight. I remembered every moment I’d spent with her and how much it’d all meant to me. Yes, I’d definitely had feelings for Princess Annabeth Chase.

            So yes, I had feelings for women. I felt so ashamed. It probably wasn’t supposed to happen. Was I some kind of monster? Would everyone else treat me as such if I told them? Was it even _safe_ to tell them? Would I get sympathy, confusion, or would they rip me to shreds?

            A million questions raced through my head, and I cried myself to sleep each night, completely overwhelmed. I read every book in the library, attempting to find something, _anything_ about same-gender love. After hours upon hours of frantic and desperate searching, I managed to find one clause buried deep in a law book:

_‘Any man or woman who has been discovered to have willingly engaged in sexual intercourse with a person of the same sex must face a prison sentence of at least fifty years, and if they have been doing so regularly for five years or more they may be charged with the death penalty.’_

            Now, I wasn’t planning to _engage in sexual intercourse_ with Reyna any time soon, but that gave me the general idea that it wasn’t something that was considered alright. So I told no-one. I kept it to myself, hiding, attempting to numb the feelings, to remove them entirely. I dated boys. I lost myself in them, partner after partner, lover after lover, as if maybe if I dated enough of them my love of girls might go away. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t find anyone male attractive; so many of them were. I came to the brink of falling in love so many times. For a moment I thought I could’ve fallen out of love with Reyna.

            But apparently not.

            I like boys and girls. Both are amazing. Both are beautiful. Both are attractive. Yet for some reason the law and society dictates that I can only love one gender: male.

            My heart has stopped racing quite so much, so I take a deep breath and cross the room to my enormous wardrobe. Ugh. I really don’t care about clothes, but I have an enormous collection of exquisitely tailored dresses and I never know what I’m supposed to wear. Formalities are annoying.

            I crawl downstairs, trying to attract as little attention as possible (which, might I add, if extremely difficult when you’re dressed in full princess attire. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me as I stumble around with my long skirt catching on my high heels.

            A servant, Luke, I think his name is, opens a door and gestures for me to go in. I nod at him and step inside.

            My parents are sitting at a table, my mother seemingly buzzing with excitement, my father’s expression unreadable.

            “Piper, sweetie!” my mother says, standing up and clutching me in her sharp embrace. I almost choke on the smell of her perfume.

            “Um, hey,” I say, carefully detaching myself from her, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

            “Piper,” she takes my hands in hers, “You’re going to be married!”

            “WHAT?!”

NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO.


            “You are sixteen now, and your sister’s already married, so there’s this nice prince from the kingdom of Futuovos named Jason. His parents were interested in forming an alliance, and seeing as we both have lovely, single children we thought that it would be a good idea if . . .”

            She babbles on and on, not paying attention to the sheer look of dread on my face. This can’t be happening. This actually can’t. I don’t want to marry someone I don’t even know. Who I probably won’t even love. All for the sake of the kingdom. What about me? What about my feelings? . . . What about Reyna?

            I look my father desperately, and he blatantly refuses to make eye contact.

            “No, please . . .” I whisper, trying to hold my tears back.

            My mother looks confused, “I thought that you’d be happy?”

            I press my lips together and shake my head. And then all of a sudden I’m crying, bawling my eyes out, running from the room screaming, tripping over my blasted dress, my parents yelling for me to come back but not bothering to follow me out.

            I pass Reyna on the stairs, and I can’t bear to look her in the eyes.

            “Ma’am, are you alright?”

            I don’t respond, shoving past her and running up to my room.

            “Piper?” she calls, dropping the sheets she’s holding to run after me. My stomach does a cartwheel.

            I reach my room and throw myself into a miserable, sobbing heap on my bed. I don’t care if Reyna sees me like this. I can’t stop the tears coming.

            I feel her sitting down to me on the bed, slowly. She doesn’t say anything, but she carefully reaches out her hand and places it on my shoulder. Normally her touch would make me panic and blush, but right now it somehow calms me instead. My breathing steadies.

            “What’s wrong?” she says gently.

            “I- I have to get married.”

            I can hear her suddenly inhale in shock. Her hand stiffens a little.

            “What? To who?” Her voice is steady, but I can just feel a small quaver of uneasiness. Wait, no, of course not. I’m just imagining things. Why would she ever care about me getting married?

            “The prince of Futuovos. Jason. Because my parents want an alliance.”

            I turn and look up at her; my cheeks are sticky with tears and my eyes probably red and puffy, but she doesn’t recoil in disgust.

            She takes a deep breath, “Well, I’m sure your parents have your best interests in mind . . .” she trails off, “Actually, no. No. That is messed up. I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I don’t care. You shouldn’t be forced to marry anyone. You should be allowed to love whoever you want to love.”

            “Reyna . . .”

            “Piper, that’s just wrong. Don’t let them make you. Please.”

            I manage a smile, “I have no intention of doing that.”

            “Thank you.”

            We stay in silence for a while, but then something hits me.

            “Why are you thanking me? Why does it matter to you?” That comes out more malicious than I intended it to, and I instantly regret asking. Please don’t let her take it the wrong way, please don’t let her take it the wrong way . . .

            “Because . . . because I . . .” she shakes her head, “Never mind.”

            “What?” I sit up and lean in closer, my heart pounding.

            “It doesn’t matter.”

            “Yes it does.”

            “Look, I’m just a maid. What I think doesn’t count.”

            “It counts to me.”

            “Just leave it.”

            She stands up.

            “Is there anything that you need me to do, ma’am?” she asks, her face re-arranged back into her typical made persona.

            “Yes, actually,” I stand up too. I glance around to check that the door is closed and that nobody’s watching.

            “What?”

            “Just . . . can I kiss you?”


End file.
